


Meant to Be

by Daisy_Rivers



Series: Meant to Be [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Childhood Friends, Destiny, F/M, Growing Up Together, M/M, Multi, Not Canon Compliant, OT3, Polyamory, True Love, Young Love, not even close to canon compliant, technically not underage but
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-25 15:49:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18577615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daisy_Rivers/pseuds/Daisy_Rivers
Summary: In this totally non-canon-compliant story, Alex, John, and Eliza meet as children and are inseparable for the rest of their lives. The age of consent in South Carolina is sixteen, if you want to know, and we only vaguely miss it ... sort of ... depends on the definition. If physical affection between young teens troubles you, you should probably go read something else.





	Meant to Be

They met when they were six, at the beach in South Carolina where the Laurens family had a vacation home. Rachel Faucette had recently been hired as Henry Laurens’s administrative assistant, so she was there too with her young son Alexander.  There were those who said Rachel’s job title didn’t include everything she did for Henry, but Alex was too young to understand the rumors even if he heard them. His mother’s room was near the front of the big house, but his was near the back, next to Mr. Laurens’s son’s.

John and Alex met when Henry said, “This is Alexander, my assistant’s son. Maybe you boys can play together.”

Alex looked down, poking his toe into the carpet.

“Can you swim?” John asked.

“No.”

“Come on. I’ll teach you.”

A short distance away, Philip Schuyler had rented a beach house to bring his wife and three small daughters to some warmth and sunshine after the cold Albany winter.

John and Alex found Eliza digging determinedly in an area of sand that they had already claimed as theirs. She ignored them as they stood staring warily down at her.

“What are you doing here?” Alex demanded.

“Digging a hole.”

“Why?”

Eliza considered thoughtfully, then looked up at them, studying each of their faces in turn. “I like to dig.”

Her sisters were several yards away with their parents, building a sand castle. Eliza didn’t want a castle.

The boys stared at her. She was smaller than they were, with her dark hair in two pigtails that stuck out.

“Do you want to go in the water with us?” John asked.

She didn’t hesitate. “Okay,” she said.

“Each of you hold one of my hands,” John directed, “because I’m the best swimmer.”

They did as he said, holding tightly.

Nothing was ever the same again.

  
*          *          *          *          *

When they were nine, the boys no longer had to worry that maybe Eliza wouldn’t come back again. The Schuylers bought the house they’d been renting every summer so they could continue their beach vacations. When the family arrived at the end of June, John and Alex were standing in the driveway vibrating with anticipation. They greeted Eliza’s parents and sisters politely, then John said to Eliza, “Come swim with us.”

She had her bathing suit on under her clothes, and she tossed her shorts and top into the back seat and ran, grabbing a hand of each of the boys as the three of them raced into the ocean.

“Eliza, get your stuff out of the car,” Angelica yelled, but Eliza kept running.

Philip carried Eliza’s suitcase, and Catherine picked up her discarded clothes. She stood for a moment watching the three small figures in the surf.

“Do you think they’ll be all right?” she asked her husband, a little worried.

“They’ll be fine,” Philip said. “They all swim like fish.”

They did now, the three of them diving into the waves, deliberately bumping into one another, pulling each other under, splashing and laughing. A couple of hours later, comfortably tired, they lay side by side on the warm sand, Eliza in the middle, holding hands.

“I’m glad I’m back,” Eliza said softly.

John lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it unselfconsciously. “Me too.”

“Me three,” Alex added, and they giggled because they were young enough that it was still funny. Alex moved closer to Eliza and felt the cool dampness of her bathing suit contrasting with her sun-warmed skin. It felt good to be next to her, as if he belonged there. “You two are my best friends in the whole world” he said.

“Well, duh,” John said. “We already knew that.”

*          *          *          *          *

When they were twelve, they collected shells for Eliza to make bracelets. She braided embroidery floss in different colors and tied three shells onto each bracelet. John, who even then had meticulously neat printing, wrote their initials on the shells in gold paint: JL, AH, ES. The night before Eliza was to return to Albany, they were allowed to stay out on the beach late. There was a full moon, and Eliza solemnly tied the bracelets onto their wrists. They were quiet, Alex lying down with his head in John’s lap, Eliza spooned tight against him. They were all aware that they were experiencing new feelings with each other, but they knew one another so well that there was no need to mention it. It just meant that they wanted to be closer, to hold each other more tightly.

“I don’t want to leave,” Eliza said, her voice small.

Alex’s arm tightened around her. “Don’t,” he whispered. “Stay with us.”

“When we’re grown up,” John said, “we’ll be together all the time.”

A shiver that she didn’t quite understand went through Eliza at the thought. “Just the three of us, forever,” she murmured. “I love you both so much.”

John bent down and kissed each of them on the lips: not quite a child’s kiss, not quite anything else.

Alex nuzzled the back of Eliza’s neck, breathing in her scent. “I love you, Eliza. I love you, John.”

*          *          *          *          *

When they were sixteen, they spent most of the summer hiding from their parents and making out at every opportunity, sometimes in one of  their houses if no one else was there, more often at night between the dunes on a blanket, the sand under them still holding the sun’s warmth. Their parents thought that because there were three instead of two, there was no danger of things going too far.

“Idiots!” Angelica said privately to Peggy, but she never betrayed Eliza.

On the Fourth of July, John, Eliza, and Alex lay on a blanket sheltered by sea grass as fireworks flashed overhead. They had discarded their clothes, and Alex was kissing Eliza’s mouth while John stroked her breasts and sucked her nipples. They fingered her gently; there was no rush.

“I think,” John said after a while, “that we’re old enough to have sex.”

Alex raised an eyebrow at him. “We’ve already had sex.”

He and John had started having oral sex about a year ago, and last summer they’d learned how to get Eliza off with their fingers and mouths.

John gave him a patient smile. “You know what I mean.”

Eliza sat up, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders. “Penetrative sex,” she said.

Alex snickered. “Where did you find that word?”

“Online. You’re not the only one who looks stuff up. Anyway, that’s what most people mean when they say sex.”

“The kind of sex that can get somebody pregnant,” Alex said, sounding priggish because he was a little scared.

John laughed and tossed his head, the moonlight glinting on his curls. “Well, it could get Eliza pregnant, but it won’t, because we’ll be careful. It can’t get you or me pregnant.”

“What do you ...” Alex began, and then stopped suddenly as he realized what John meant. A wave of heat swept over him, and he stretched a hand out for each of them. “Yes,” he said.

“Yes,” echoed Eliza, barely aware that they were all holding hands, just as they had done when they were small. “When?”

John let go of Alex’s hand and pulled his jeans from the pile of clothes. He reached into a pocket and tossed a handful of foil-wrapped condoms into the circle where they lay glittering. “Now,” he said.

Eliza drew in a long, gasping breath. “Yes,” she said again, her voice hot and avid. She pulled her boys to her. “Yes.”

“Who’s first?” John whispered.

“That’s not ... I can’t ...” She looked stricken, as if it were a matter of life and death.

“It’s okay,” Alex assured her, stroking her back as she huddled against him. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does,” she insisted. “I don’t want you to be first and second. I love you the same. I want you both to be first.”

“Eliza, sweetheart,” John said, “That’s not … Alex and I understand. We don’t mind.”

She was biting her lip, staring at her feet, and then suddenly she looked up, her eyes glowing. “Blindfold me!” she commanded.

Alex was stunned “What?”

“Blindfold me,” she repeated. She fumbled in the pile of clothes and pulled out the long scarf she’d been using as a belt. “Blindfold me and never tell me.”

“Eliza, you’ll know,” John said. “You’ll be able to ...”

“No!” She shook her head and pulled his hand and Alex’s to her face, kissing their fingertips. “You must be very, very quiet. I’ll never know for sure, and that’s how I want it. You’re both my first. You’re both my forever.”

It was magical. The fireworks were over, and the sky was lit only by stars and the full moon. Eliza lay naked on the blanket, her skin washed with silver light, her lips parted, the silk scarf tied over her eyes. She was breathing fast, eagerly, aching for them. She had never wanted anything so much in her life. Someone — she thought it was John, but she wasn’t sure — kissed her and cupped a hand over her breast, stroking her nipple with his thumb. Someone else — or maybe the same one — slid two fingers into her, circling and pressing out, and then one of them was between her legs, pushing them apart, and she was panting, “Please, oh, please!” She felt him slide into her very slowly, giving her time. She didn’t want time. She wanted it all now, and she shoved her hips toward him, taking him all the way in. It was all he could do not to cry out, but he bit his lip until he tasted blood, and then began to move slowly back and forth, as his best friend licked his thumb and put it on their girl’s clit, making soft circles. He felt her begin to flutter and tighten around him, and he pushed harder and deeper. When Eliza came, she bit down on her hand because she was afraid they’d hear her all the way back at the house. It was as if the fireworks and the moonlight and the pounding surf had exploded inside her.

She reached out and pulled them tight against her, gasping, laughing, crying. “Oh, I love you,” she sobbed. “I love you so much.”

They covered her with kisses, with touches, licking her throat, her nipples, her navel, still silent. She knew now that John was on her right and Alex on her left because she had her fingers twisted in John’s curls and in Alex’s straight black hair, but she didn’t know – never knew – who had been inside her. It was exactly as she wanted it to be. They were both hers. When she finally stopped trembling, she pulled her hands back and said, “Again. Please do it again.”

So they did it again.  
  
Henry Laurens had to go to Atlanta on business, and of course Rachel had to go with him. Eleanor, John’s mother, lived in Charleston, and Alex and Eliza had never even met her. They were casually fond of all their parents, but when they were together, there was no space for anyone else.

There was a balcony off the back of the second floor of the Laurens house, near John’s and Alex’s rooms. Alex had slept with John since he was eight, and Alex’s old room had become a playroom years ago, but none of the adults paid any attention, and that was fine. Now, with no adults in the house at all, the bedroom and the balcony were theirs, and they spent every possible minute there.

The first day Henry and Rachel were gone, Eliza arrived early and kissed both her boys hungrily. “I want to watch you,” she told them.

For the first few minutes, John and Alex were a little self-conscious, but it was Eliza, who knew everything about them, and whatever nervousness they had vanished quickly. She sat cross-legged on the bed, naked, watching them intently, making little sounds of encouragement as they kissed. “You’re so beautiful,” she told them. “I love you.”

John twisted Alex onto all fours, and Eliza’s eyes were wide and dark. “Yes,” she whispered.

John lubed his fingers, prepared to open Alex up, and Eliza moved closer, lying on her back so she could look up at Alex’s face. His eyes locked on hers as John pressed his fingers in. Alex gasped, feeling the pressure, wanting more, and Eliza felt the heat gathering within her.

John pressed farther, and Alex closed his eyes and breathed in, then spoke suddenly, startling them. “Wait,” he said.

“You okay, babe?” John asked, worried.

“Oh, yeah.” He was breathing hard, and his voice was rough. He looked at Eliza. “Get under me,” he said. “Get under me and spread your legs.”

 _“Jesus!”_ John gasped when he realized what Alex meant, and Eliza was shaking as she positioned herself the way Alex wanted.

Alex pulled a pillow to her hips and pushed it under her, then smiled faintly. “All three of us. The way it’s meant to be.”

John leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Alex’s waist. “Tell me when you’re ready.”

“Now, I think,” Alex said. “You ready, babygirl?”

“Yes,” she told him. “So ready.”

John was careful, going slowly, feeling Alex’s heat and watching Eliza’s beautiful face. Alex moaned as he pushed in, and then Eliza gasped, “Oh, _God!_ ”

John moved with Alex, keeping the same rhythm, overwhelmed by the sensation of making love to both of the people he adored. None of them could last very long, and when Eliza started to whimper and tighten around Alex, the cascade began, sweeping through all of them at once. They wound up wrapped around each other, holding tight.

“I don’t ever, ever want to leave,” Eliza said, kissing first one and then the other. “I want to stay right here forever.”

“Not too much longer,” John told her. “Two more years.”

“Two _years_ ,” she wailed.

“We’ve made it through ten years, babygirl,” Alex reminded her. “We can make it through two more.”

She knew he was right. They’d begun planning everything when they were ten.  
   
The balcony wasn’t overlooked by any neighbors’ windows, and they lay on it naked day after day, making love in the bright sunlight. Eliza’s pale skin turned gold, and if Angelica noticed that, unlike her and Peggy, Eliza had no bathing suit tan lines, she never said a word.

Sometimes John sat with his sketchbook, drawing Eliza and Alex together or separately. He drew them clothed, naked, making love in different positions.

“What if your father sees these?” Eliza asked once.

John laughed. “He won’t.” He bent and kissed her, and then, as she responded eagerly, slid his hands between her legs.

“I wish I could draw,” Alex murmured, licking his lips and watching them.

John took his mouth off Eliza’s long enough to say, “You have a phone, don’t you? Take a picture.”

That opened up an activity they hadn’t previously thought of, and John began putting together an album of what he called artistic erotica. “It’s not _porn_ ,” he declared emphatically. “These are more than pictures of us having sex. They show how much we love each other.” There were drawings and photos of all of them, together and separately. He scanned his drawings and kept the best pictures in a computer album with a password that only the three of them knew.

“I need something to get off to when you’re back in Albany and Alex is studying,” he told Eliza.

“I’m not studying now,” Alex pointed out, and John laughed, took him in his hand as Eliza lay next to him and kissed him. She threw her leg over his and rubbed herself against him as he moaned into her mouth, and when Alex came, he spilled onto both of them. John pushed Eliza onto her back, her head resting on Alex’s chest, and went down on her, slid fingers still sticky from Alex into her. Alex held her in place, one hand on each breast, thumbs on her nipples until her hips started to buck, and then he put his hand over her mouth because he knew she would scream, and she bit down hard just below his thumb. He was used to that now, and the pain became part of the excitement as he watched her eyes roll back and her body go into spasms as John thrust his fingers in and out, pressing up on the inside as his tongue pressed on the outside. He finally moved his hand away cautiously. She was making a sort of keening noise, still trembling a little, and he kissed her, then stroked her from her shoulders to her hips as he kept his eyes on John, who lifted his head and sat up, swiping at his mouth with the back of his hand.

“ _Damn,_ babygirl,” John said.

“What?” Eliza managed to gasp, half laughing.

John grinned at her. “I love feeling you come.”

“Your turn now, John,” Alex said.

“Yeah,” John agreed.

“Both of us,” Eliza told Alex. She smiled at John. “I love feeling you come too.”

They both got their mouths on him, licking, sucking, kissing each other around him, taking turns until he was right on the edge, and then Alex took him all the way, and once again they clung to each other, their thoughts as closely connected as their bodies.

When Alex spoke, he was unusually serious. “I know couples are what people think is normal, and I don’t mind. I don’t know if we were born different or what, but I can’t imagine – I literally can’t even imagine – what it would be like to only have one of you. Even if I try to think what it would be like if Eliza had never come here from Albany, I know that of course I would have fallen in love with John, but I can’t …” he looked from John to Eliza. “Am I making sense?”

“Perfect sense,” Eliza said. “Yes, I could have fallen in love with either one of you, but it wouldn’t … it would be incomplete.”

“Right,” John agreed. “I’ve always loved both of you. I’ve always needed both of you. This is the only way it can be for us.”

“The way it has to be,” Alex said. “The way it’s meant to be.”

*          *          *          *          *

They were all accepted at the University of South Carolina, and they enrolled together, Alex in pre-law, Eliza in social work, John in art. Finally, they didn’t have to spend more than half of the year apart. John and Alex roomed together, and Eliza slept in their dorm room as often as she slept in her own. She went to the campus clinic and got the implant so they didn’t have to worry about pregnancy or condoms, and they explored each other’s bodies and minds in ways that brought them even closer.

Their families worried, not for the first time, about the exclusivity and intensity of their relationship, but there was nothing they could actually criticize. All three of them did well in their studies, and anyone could see that they were happy. Still, their parents tried to encourage them to see other people.

“Eliza, honey,” Catherine said after a birthday dinner that had included both John and Alex, “you’ve spent most of your life with those two boys. Maybe you should think about seeing somebody else.”

To Eliza that made about as much sense as saying, “You’ve had your arms for a long time now. Maybe you should chop them off and try new ones.”

“Okay,” she said to her mother politely and ignored the ridiculous advice.

One day Rachel Faucette took her son aside. “You know, Alex,” she said, her voice concerned, “at some point, Eliza Schuyler is going to have to choose between you and John. I hope you’re prepared for that.”

“Of course,” Alex responded, trying not to laugh.

Henry Laurens invited friends with eligible college-age daughters to dinner. When John basically ignored them, he invited families with college-age sons. John was polite to everyone, but showed no interest in a new relationship.

As graduation approached, John, Alex, and Eliza began to put in place the plan they’d talked about since they were ten. John officially proposed to Eliza. She showed off her pretty diamond ring and accepted everybody’s congratulations. They planned a simple wedding; Alex would be best man, of course. Everyone watched Alex for signs of jealousy, but saw none.  The wedding was lovely. Peggy caught the bouquet and Alex caught the garter, engendering lots of pointed remarks. The newly married couple was to spend their wedding night in a hotel in Charleston, then fly to Hawaii the next day. Henry Laurens, delighted that his son was marrying into the well-to-do Schuyler family, gave him a large sum of cash to spend on a dream honeymoon.

It was nearly midnight, after all the guests had departed, when the bride, groom, and best man met on the beach, Eliza still in her white satin gown, John and Alex in their tuxes. They were all barefoot and stood on the sand where the smallest waves would wash over their feet, holding hands. John took the third ring out of his pocket. It was identical to the other two, white gold with a pattern of vines. He had designed them, and a jeweler had worked from his drawings. Inside each ring were the initials that had been on the bracelets Eliza had made long ago, along with a brief phrase: _JL, AH, ES, meant to be_. The same initials were engraved inside Eliza’s engagement ring, because of course it was from both of them. Of course they had proposed to her together the night before the "official," scripted proposal.

The three of them stood hand-in-hand on the beach in the moonlight and repeated their vows, their real vows this time: _“I, Alexander,” “I, Elizabeth,” “I, John,”  “take you, Elizabeth, take you, John,” “take you, Alexander, take you John,” “take you Alexander, take you Elizabeth ...” “To be my wife and my husband, my husband and my husband,” “For better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others ... as long as we shall live.”_

Eliza held Alex’s hand as John slid the ring onto his finger, and then they kissed each other until the incoming tide brought the waves above their ankles. They walked hand-in-hand back to the car and drove to the hotel, where John had been careful to secure a room with a king-size bed for their wedding night.

The month in Hawaii was wonderful.

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea where this story came from, but I hope you like it. Please tell me if you do, as I am always in need of validation.


End file.
